


Walter Kids

by Wasthatapun



Series: Walter Kids [1]
Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:23:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasthatapun/pseuds/Wasthatapun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assorted adventures of the Walter Kids from Happy Little Family</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Very Walter Thanksgiving

Holidays at Walter Manor were interesting enough on their own, let alone as parents of four just-come-into-existence children. As with many things each child had a general understanding of the matter appropriate to their age but that did nothing to change the fact that this was something none of them had ever experienced before and the endless questions that inevitably came with a first anything.

Not to mention the need to make this the best Thanksgiving Walter Manor had ever seen because after all this wasn’t just the kids’ first Thanksgiving, it was their first holiday everand that meant it needed to be extra special.

Jeeves had somehow managed to cover himself from head to toe in multicolored paint and stood proudly in his Papa’s workshop holding up the handprint turkey he’d just finished making. Steve wondered how it had six fingers but didn’t mention the oddity as he took his son’s masterpiece and inspected it.

“Wow Jeeves, you just keep getting better and better at making these!” he announced “How many does this make?” 

Jeeves screwed up his little face, his green smudged nose wrinkling as he tried to puzzle out just how many he’d made so far.

“Dis many.“ 

Steve chuckled at the random number of fingers Jeeves held up. “Well lets just double check, hhmm?”

He grabbed the stapler out of a drawer, took the newest creation, and stapled it to the rest. There were considerably more than ten already made and Steve suspected they’d be able to circle the whole dining room with the hand-made garland.

“Wow, you’re gettin toward 30 there Jeeves, you’re really makin’ them fast there!”

“Cause it’s fun! But Papa I wan outta paint.” He gave his best puppy eyed pout. Made hilarious by the smears of blue, green and purple that were spread across his face.

“Well that means the garland’s all done and its bathtime for certain little bots.”

“I can bring Ducky?”

“I’m not sure I could stop you,” Steve admitted as he searched out a towel to avoid losing yet another outfit to the trials of parenthood, Jeeves cheering at the prospect of a bubble bath.

Steve paused, glancing back at the various painted paper bag hand print turkeys then back to his paint covered son.

“Jeeves? Your turkey is fuchsia. You have blue, pink, brown, yellow, black, white, and even teal all over you. We don’t own fuchsia. How- you know never mind.”

At this point he’d learned there were some questions he just shouldn’t expect to ever find out the answer to.

-

While Jeeves was plunked into a bath, Ham was in the kitchen with both of his dads. Standing on a small stool, he was supposed to be helping Sam by reading the recipe, but having a robotic father who could and was pulling side dishes from his stomach proved to be more than a little distracting. It was actually Junior, the one who didn’t actually have to eat, that seemed interested in Sam’s cooking. Glowing green eyes watched intently as Sam poured some milk over potatoes and started mashing.

“He says ‘That’s a lot of work’,” Ham reported, though his focus was on Daddy Hatchworth removing a gravy boat from his hatch. 

Sam smiled down at Junior and offered him the bowl and masher. 

“You want to try?”

Junior paused and then quickly nodded his head. Sam placed the bowl on a nearby table and handed the masher to his nephew. Junior looked almost giddy as he plopped his horsie butt onto the ground and went to work smashing and stirring.

“Well, at least somebody appreciates traditions.”

Hatchworth chuckled and Ham giggled sheepishly. 

 

-

“Pst, hey kid.”

Rabel looked around until he spied Lil Steve half-hidden in a potted plant. The doll gestured until Rabel walked over and picked him up. He set Lil Steve on his shoulder.

“What’re you doin’? There’s cherry pie in there!”

“I d-dunno. Waiting for dinner?” Rabel shrugged.

“Che. Ry. Piiiiiiie!” 

“You don’t even have a mouth!”

“So? Shut up!”

Rabel laughed as Lil Steve headbutted his metal cheek.

“Anyways. Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Lil Steve lowered his head as if he actually needed to get any closer to Rabel for this to be a secret. “First, we gotta make sure Carrot Top and the Iron Chef in there are distracted.”

“He’s made of bronze,” Rabel corrected, earning himself another headbutt.

“Focus! Once all eyes are off the pies, we get the prize!”

“Did you m-m-mean to rhyme?”

Headbutt. 

-

Junior had finished his mashed potatoes (Sam reminded himself they would need to do some maintenance on the bot to remove potato from his insides) and was now helping mix a salad while Sam chopped vegetables. At least Junior’s system was more equipped for lettuce and spinach. 

Ham sat off a bit, dangling his legs as he untucked his shirt. Hatchworth seated himself nearby, watching the boy with an ever-present smile. Ham opened his hatch and craned his neck to peer inside.

“I don’t think it works,” he mumbled.

“I take it you have been trying?” Hatchworth asked, his mechanical voice non-accusing. Ham’s answer was half-shrug, half-squirming-in-place.

“Try something simple. How about a roll?”

Ham didn’t like asking for help from adults, though it was only slightly less embarrassing to get unasked-for advice. He started to grumble, but realized Hatchworth wasn’t going anywhere and had his undivided attention on Ham. Instead, he sighed and closed his little hatch door.

Together they sat, their own brand of father-son bonding, in the corner of the kitchen. Hatchworth patiently gave tips to Ham whenever he started to look frustrated with opening his door to find nothing yet again. He thought he made a pea, but it turned out Rabel had thrown it, earning a glare from his cousin and a disapproving puff of steam from his uncle. The copper half-pint quickly disappeared again, accompanied by the sound of Lil Steve’s laughter.

-

“WE GOT A RUNNER!”

Steve’s shout got everyone’s attention as Jeeves streaked down the hall, all squeals and pattering wet feet. The naked tot managed to barrel past The Spine and knock him just enough off balance to regain his head start from his Papa. He shrieked happily and turned down another hall as Steve and The Spine exchanged weary looks and continued the chase. He had almost made it to the laundry chute (that was last week’s big adventure) when The Jon stepped out of a room and caught Jeeves in his arms. 

“Got him!” he chirruped, tossing the toddler into the air and catching him again, much to Jeeves’ delight. 

-

“RABEL WALTER REED, YOU PUT THAT PIE BACK.”

Rabel ducked his head and cringed as Sam yelled. He hadn’t even turned to face him! How did he know! (Hint: he lives with The Jon.)

“Been nice knowin’ ya, man!” Lil Steve said with a pat to Rabel’s cheek before abandoning ship and running out the room. 

Rabel heaved a dramatic sigh, rolled his eyes, and returned the pie to the counter. Junior giggled, chewing on a celery stalk. Sam pointed a wooden spoon at a nearby chair as he finally turned towards Rabel.

“Sit. We’re almost done.”

Rabel huffed and blew out a bit of steam as he sat and sulked. Junior giggled again and clicked his hooves on the kitchen tile. Rabel just stuck his tongue out.

“I did it! I did it!”

All eyes turned to Ham who was gleefully holding up a daintily iced cupcake.

“Yeah, but why’s it gr-gr-green?”

Ham lowered his arms and scuffed a shoe on the floor. “I was trying to make green bean casserole,” he admitted quietly. 

Rabel started to laugh, but Hatchworth took the cupcake from Ham and set it with the main meal. “I think it was a wonderful attempt and a beautiful pastry. We’ll put it in the middle of the table.” 

Ham blushed, but looked pleased with himself.

“Rabel, will you go to the dining room and check on your dad and pappy? It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to set the table.”

“I’d gi-give them an hour!” Rabel giggled and dashed off, but not before swiping a roll from a nearby basket. 

-

“Da-aaaad! Pa-aaappy! What’s takin’ so l—”

Rabel ducked as a fork whizzed by and embedded itself in the doorframe. “Hah, cool!”

Rabbit was on the other end of the room, poised and ready to throw a dinner plate frisbee-style at Michael, who held up a serving tray like a shield. The floor was littered with the good silverware and Rabbit quickly set the plate down on the table and Michael cleared his throat, patting Rabel’s head as his son strolled by.

“Do as we say, not as we do.”

Rabbit nodded in agreement.

Rabel climbed onto a chair and knelt on the seat backwards, resting his chin on the backrest and giggling at his parents. 

“Unca Sam wants ta know what’s takin’ so long.”

“Your pappy decided to make up where the silverware goes,” Michael said accusingly as he stooped to retrieve a fork from under the table. “And then he decided to make up his own silverware.” He pointed said fork to the other metal serving tray that had been somehow mangled and torn.

“Well your daddy just d-d-doesn’t have any-any creativity,” Rabbit countered, righting a chair.

“At least I’m not the one falling in love with the coffee pot.” Michael pulled the centerpiece back together and went searching for a candelabra that had somehow gotten wedged behind the china cabinet. 

“She was into it,” Rabbit said with a wink.

Rabel groaned and covered his head with his arms. “Pappyyyyy…”

It took another ten minutes for the three of them to set the table. The Spine walked in just in time to catch Rabbit about to light the candles using his flamethrower while Rabel cheered him on. Michael unsuccessfully tried to look disapproving.

The titanium automaton rolled his eyes and sighed, “Can we get though this night without any injuries?”

Michael quickly hid his arm behind his back. It was only a flesh wound, anyway.

After ensuring the table was both set and intact, they started carrying in the serving dishes. Junior pranced along as he helped carry the food and was especially proud to show The Spine which side dishes he had helped make. Steve finally made his reappearance with a clean and dressed Jeeves, a paper pilgrim’s hat nestled in his dark curls. Steve disappeared for another moment and reappeared with Jeeves’ surprisingly long hand-print-turkey garland. He hung it around the full perimeter of the dining room while The Jon helped Jeeves into his booster seat and Sam thanked his lucky stars for the distraction. Please no spilled food this year.

“Hey! Whewe’s Lil Steve!” Jeeves demanded as he wiggled around. He lifted up the tablecloth (don’t think no one noticed that burn mark, Rabbit) and pulled out a very disgruntled Lil Steve. The doll wore a plump turkey costume and was doing his best to sulk.

“This. Is not. The closet. I was hiding in.” He crossed his arms as he grumbled, but Jeeves hugged him anyway. The Jon giggled and tweaked one his cloth tail feathers. 

After only a little more fuss, the rest of the family started settling themselves at the table. Jeeves was happy to show off Lil Steve’s costume to Annie, who thought it was the cutest thing, much to the doll’s chagrin. 

“Where did you even get that?” Michael asked quietly.

“I didn’t,” Steve admitted. “But it’s too funny to stop him.”

Conversation and laughter filled the room, especially when they had to stop Rabbit from reattempting to light the candles. (“Matches! We have matches!”) Jeeves tried making up a Thanksgiving Song, which The Jon and Rabbit were more than happy to sing at headache-inducing volumes. It was Peter Walter V who discovered the fork still jutting from the doorframe and The Spine who had the displeasure of removing it from said doorframe. With a lot more effort needed than a robot should ever have to exert to do so. He glared at Rabbit when it finally came free. Rabbit pointed to Michael. Michael pointed to Rabel. Rabel nodded.

Hatchworth was just about to return to the kitchen to fetch the turkey when there was an excited yelling. Sam, once again, did not know he could move that fast, but breathed a sigh of relief when Ham came running out of the kitchen with a huge smile on his face.

“DAD! DAD! LOOK! I DID IT!” 

“Is it another green bean cupcake?!” Rabel yelled from the dining room.

Ham just proudly walked into the room with his head held high. In his hands was a perfect centerpiece turkey, golden brown and steaming. It was even garnished! Even Sam had to admit it was better than his turkey, though it was a quarter of the size of a normal turkey — just right for a Ham-sized hatch. He blushed when everyone clapped and tried to hide against his dads. 

They all decided the miniature turkey deserved the place of pride on the centerpiece. 

(But only because they couldn’t get Lil Steve to stay still)

The new parents were more than a little pleased with how their first holiday dinner turned out. No crying, no thrown food, no major arguments, no trips to the ER, no portals to the 8th dimension of infinite terror. The last few weren’t so much expected from the kids but the adults because of prior experience. The worst thing that happened was a bit of teasing that was ended with little more than a side eyed glare. At one point Jeeves dared Rabel to eat the green bean cupcake sitting in the center of the table right besides the remains of Ham’s mini turkey and after a bit of taunting he did just that. Only to announce a moment later it was the best cupcake or green bean casserole he’d ever had and asking Ham if he’d ever try to do it again. Ham beamed in quiet pride at the accidental success.

Michael got a call toward the middle and pulled Rabel away to tell his grandparents Happy Thanksgiving, reminding Sam and Steve to make calls of their own and for a short time Junior found himself the center of attention and for once didn’t especially mind.

With that formality out of the way they joyful finished up dinner in a laughing mess, especially when someone brought up needing to do the wish bone only to have to fight it away from Lil Steve who had decided hiding it was adequate revenge for the ‘dishonor’ of his turkey costume. Only for him to end up falling into the gravy boat and for Sam to pluck the bone from his grip and hand it to Junior and Rabel.

Junior succeeded in getting the bigger half and in his tiny voice admitted “I don’t have a wish though, I like everything how it is”

Rabel gagged, everyone else aawwed and The Spine wrapped his son in a proud hug.


	2. Deer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes the Walter kids on a nature walk and they make an unexpected friend

Steve stood frozen, one arm out to still the gaggle of children he had been leading on a pleasant walk through the woods. Jeeves stared wide eyed from his perch on his Papa’s shoulders and wriggled so he could bend close to Steve’s ear. “Papa, what’s dat?” he whispered.

Steve put a finger to his lips, made eye contact with each of the other three boys and motioned for them to stay still as he inched forward. A twig snapped and the fawn’s head snapped in his direction, tail up and alert as their eyes met.

Steve stood still, feeling Jeeves freeze on his shoulders as well.

“We found Bambi.” Rabel whispered, voice filled with awe.

Steve made a hushed sound and slowly extended an open hand toward the flighty looking fawn and much to his surprise it stepped toward him.

The innocent creature came forward on shaky legs and sniffed curiously at the sound engineers open palm, licking it and Steve realized he probably had some salt from lunch still stuck to him.

Ham, Rabel, and Junior shifted excitedly behind him and Steve slowly moved to the faun’s side, a hand petting its nose gently.

Rabel couldn’t hold back the excited giggle that bubbled up in him and the fawn looked at him curiously, bumping its nose against his cheek only to get a hug from the excitable half robut.

Junior shifted nervously, and then stepped forward with his own glistening metal palm held open.

The fawn looked at him, ears twitching in curiosity and it took a step back. Junior frowned and did the same, lowering his hand as he backed away.

It studied him for a moment, head tilting curiously to the side, ears laid flat against his head.

Then it stepped forward, still inspecting them with a critical eye and Junior slowly offered his hand again.

It hopped and dropped down, rear sticking in the air wiggling playfully.

Junior took a confused step forward and the deer hopped away, bouncing and bounding till it noticed the children were still staring and bounded back to them, returning to the same playful pose. 

Ham, Junior, and Rabel exchanged each looks and grinned as they bounded after the playful fawn. 

Steve grinned, letting Jeeves down to join as the tot giggled and squealed trying to keep up with his older cousins and their new friend. He got comfortable on a downed log and watched them chase the baby deer only Junior able to properly keep up copying every leap and bound. 

Eventually a chill started to creep into the air and he stood.

“Okay guys let’s let Bambi get back to Thumper and Flower, it’s starting to get late.”

He was met with a lot of whining and negotiating, but simply leveled a steady gaze at each child in turn until they finally groaned but complied.

The deer followed along after them all the way to the edge of the trees then watched them as they headed back to the manor.

“I think you kids might have made a new friend there.” Steve commented as he held the door.

“I-i think he liked the Little Prince here best huh J-junior?” Rabel responded teasingly, earning a light punch to his metal arm from the mini spinetaur and some snickering.


	3. Junior

It was so late it was early and for once Peter Walter the Sixth was actually in bed, curled up in the sheets with Marshmallow snoozing happily in the corner.

A quiet, rhythmic tapping pulls him out of sleep and he starts fumbling on the bedside table for his mask, groaning inwardly as he realizes it must have slid off.

“Daddy?”

The quiet, shy voice is accompanied by a dull blue glow filling the room.

Forgetting his search for his mask and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, pulling the nervously shifting Junior into a hug.

“Hey Junior, what are you doing up so late? You okay?”

Junior buries his face in Peters shoulder, clinging tight to him and mutters

“I - I had a bad dream. And Mama’s still in the workshop and -“

Peter could feel him shivering against him.

“Shhh, it’s okay, your okay. Was it that show Jeeves was watching?”

A nod. Peter sighed, Jeeves was too clever at getting around that stuff for any of their good.

“Well in that case, how about you stay in here with me the rest of the night? That sound good?”

A smile lighted the quiet spinetaur’s face and he nodded excitedly. Peter chuckled and pulled the comforter aside for Junior to clamber up onto the bed with him. Carefully folding his four legs close to his body and snuggling against the pillow looking pleased as punch.

“All comfy?”

“Mhm!”

Peter chuckled, a grin spreading on the mouth that both was and wasn’t there. Tucking the blanket around both of them, and kissing his impossible son on the forehead.

“Time for good little bots to go into stasis, Night Junior.”

Junior nuzzled up to Peters side, letting his external lights fade to off and giving a content sigh.

“Night Daddy.”


End file.
